


Into Me

by Rueitae



Series: Next to Me [3]
Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Ambiguous/Open Ending, Angst and Fluff and Smut, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Awkward First Times, Bad Puns, Breeding, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Emperor Sendak (Voltron), Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, First Time, Fluff and Angst, Human Experimentation, Marriage, Marriage Proposal, Past Character Death, Sexual Humor, Sexual Slavery, also to be perfectly clear this is my first attempt at smut, and at least they get privacy, but they are forced to do it, by their Galra captors, everything is consenual between Lance and Pidge doing the tango, just to be clear, last humans alive, so please be kind, this is the bad timeline, within 100 words of each other
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-25
Updated: 2020-04-25
Packaged: 2021-03-01 17:54:55
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 14,248
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23831191
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rueitae/pseuds/Rueitae
Summary: “When we were captured, you asked me never to leave you,” he starts, eyes locked onto their hands before meeting her gaze, determined she know how much he means this. “I don’t want you to leave me alone with Sendak and the Doc, either. Let’s both promise.”Pidge raises an eyebrow, skeptical, before nodding in affirmation. “Okay...I promise - pinky promise,” she amends seriously and lifts the appropriate finger.He slowly shakes his head, gently lowering her pinky and joins that hand with her other - cocooned in his hold. Earth may be lost, but he can’t help but grin like an idiot at what he’s about to pull in the spirit of keeping tradition. “I was thinking something a little deeper than that. Pidge, will you marry me?”~~~~~In this cruel reality, Lance and Pidge create their own opportunities to make choices.
Relationships: Lance/Pidge | Katie Holt
Series: Next to Me [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1701799
Comments: 16
Kudos: 31





	Into Me

“Ye-OW!” Lance yelps as the bandaid is ripped off in one agonizing jerk, sure that it’s torn some skin off. He rubs gently at the already tender area under his armpit that throbs in pain. 

Doctor Azot shows no sympathy as he sticks a needle in Lance’s opposite arm, connected to a canister of quintessence. The galactic material glows a sinister yellow on the table next to the examination bed Lance sits on the edge of. It makes him shiver, no matter how many times the doctor has used this particular ‘medication.’ He’s seen so many people go mad and wonders if the same will happen to him and Pidge one day. Maybe even put them out of their misery.

“You must stop aggravating your guards. The more you must come here for healing, the less time I have to focus on research,” the aged Galra says gruffly. 

Lance winces and not from the soreness. What the doctor tells him is exactly the result he and Pidge had hoped for… because  _ they _ are the research subjects.

Time has passed in a whirl. It’s been a month as far as they can tell since Sendak defeated Voltron, destroyed Earth, and made Lance and Pidge his personal prisoners. Servants, he calls them, because what need is there of prisoners when every living being in the universe is a thrall of the Galra Empire? 

They refuse to forget the Earth calendar, keeping track of time both the way they were raised and universal standard, desperate to hold onto any piece of home even if it no longer exists. Though they’ve had time to both mourn privately and soak in the awful reality of their new situation, the pain still feels fresh. 

Sendak’s plan for them is not limited to isolation in a cell and wallowing in misery. Already Lance has witnessed the surrender of two former Coalition members, and the destruction of three planets for the refusal to do the same. Pidge has seen more, her eyes red with barely held back sobs when the guards return her to their cell, always holding him tightly and crying her eyes out before he can even ask who Sendak killed this time.

He isn’t sure how much more the two of them can take. Each day is emotionally draining, the unlimited water provided to them barely able to quench the thirst after losing much of his body’s volume to tears. He knows he would not have made it this long without Pidge, someone to hold and comfort at the end of the day - and to comfort him. 

Then there is the Doc, adamant about pushing forward with  _ repopulation _ . Sendak enjoys their discomfort over it, evident by the cruel mirth in his eyes as he discusses it as if it’s merely the weather; all while watching the horrifying massacre of entire planets. 

At one point in his life, before Sendak ruined it all, Lance had been looking forward to married life and the unique benefits that came with it, but without any Earth tradition and without so much as a first date or even a first kiss, the idea of being a pair with Pidge by  _ order _ makes him squirm. He can tell she feels the same, each time they accidentally bring it up to each other… she can’t look him in the eye.

It’s not like he has any experience either, despite his loverboy act, just… movies or television shows telling him what it’s  _ supposed _ to look like. His relationship with Pidge hasn’t exactly followed any of that. 

They hold each other closer than ever these days, with gentle kisses of a mostly platonic kind. He often wonders what it would be like to kiss her lips, to feel like a regular couple. He knows why they haven’t, despite Pidge’s long time crush and his own fluttering heart every time he holds her. If they become something in addition to friends, it feels like falling right into Sendak’s hands. 

Their solution is an idea born of a spontaneous action on his part to delay or dissuade Azot from his curiosity. Jump their guards, make them mad, get hurt, take time to heal and watch the doctor’s nose twitch in annoyance as he has to let them rest - needing to have them at peak performance. Not that Lance even knows if he can perform well, he’s never had sex before. The longer their game goes on, the more Lance ponders over his insecurity - would he even be able to for Pidge’s satisfaction if it came to that? All those years in school learning about how the human body functions, knowing what it takes to tango, relieving the tension on his own - now when it seems imminent Lance has no idea what to do.

“Look, Doc,” Lance starts, earning a mild glare from the doctor - he detests the nickname but has given up trying to correct his patients. How to address their new physician is one of the few things Lance and Pidge have been able to decide on their own. Even the smallest bit of autonomy feels good on his lips. “As much as I appreciate your enthusiasm for the last of humanity, Pidge and I are barely adults. We aren’t  _ ready _ for this.”

Azot doesn’t even crack a smile, focused on monitoring the amount of quintessence that’s dripping into Lance’s veins. “A standard of a society that no longer exists,” he says not cruelly, but matter of factly. Lance looks away, hating that it barely registers now, how  _ used _ to not having a home planet he’s become in such a short amount of time. “You are more than old enough by Galra standards. If we’re to make even the slightest attempt to repopulate then we must take advantage of the short span of time you have for producing children.”

Lance used to love the thought of being a father, of loving and caring for his own children like Marco and Lisa had with Sylvio and Nadia; it tears his heart just thinking about their lives cut short so suddenly. Now he wants none of it. The idea of subjecting an innocent child to this… he can’t even call it a life, this  _ existence _ , is sickening. 

But with Sendak’s interest now, it's inevitable. 

“What’s the  _ point _ ?” he spits, though not quite as harshly as he wants as it turns into more annoyance. “Sendak doesn’t care what happens to us and it’s just more mouths to feed.”

Azot takes the needle out of his arm with a bit more care, reminiscent of the precision and gentleness of nurses at the Garrison. “ _ Emperor _ Sendak has taken a vested interest in the project. You should be grateful; it gives you both something to do with your lives other than assist in persuading the former rebellion to give up their fight. Hold this in place,” he instructs, putting a piece of cloth over the area of Lance’s skin where the needle once was. 

Lance obliges in resignation, holding it absentmindedly with a couple of fingers as Azot wraps bandage cloth around it. He hates that he’s to the point of picking his battles, but if he and Pidge are to ever to escape, lulling Azot into a false sense of security is the first step. They’ve come to see him more often than Sendak. 

“Well,” he starts. Heat rushes to his cheeks for even  _ thinking _ of saying this aloud, but he is running out of options. “I’ve never… done it before. And I’m pretty sure Pidge hasn’t either. We don’t know what we’re doing.” Lance feels sick, very aware of how much he begs.

“Instinct will take over, surely,” Azot says flippantly. The doctor takes up a datapad, eyes on the records he keeps of his patient’s health. “There must be some reason your species survived as long as it did. And it’s quite clear you have an affinity for each other. I’m positive you will be fine.”

“We weren’t - I mean we aren’t  _ together _ -together,” Lance insists, a bit sad at how desperate it must come off. “We’ve been friends for years and we shared a mind,” he taps his head, “in Voltron, but nothing romantic.”

Azot harumps, flicking his gaze to Lance for the briefest moment of acknowledgment. “The two of you were the arms, correct? Your synchronicity should not be a problem.” An awkward moment of silence stagnates the conversation before Azot finally offers, “In Galra culture, the stronger the bond, the healthier the offspring. Use your isolation to that benefit.”

A shiver runs up his spine at his failure to change the doctor’s mind. Azot is the only buffer between them and Sendak, for whatever it’s worth, but for all his bluster and silver tongue, he can’t find the words now. As Azot goes to clean his tools and add notes to Lance’s file on the datapad, Lance slowly begins to put the top of his suit back on, slipping an arm into one sleeve.

“Ah, not so fast. I’m not finished yet,” Azot interrupts. “As long as you’re here I’m checking on how the brand is healing.”

Lance can’t help but groan as he removes his arm from the sleeve and slumps. Azot comes over after finishing his notes and immediately undoes the bandages around his right shoulder. It doesn’t matter how many times he looks, the brand makes him sick—fills him with dread and cements the reality he lives in. 

“Be honest; how much pain are you in?” Azot asks professionally. 

“Fine,” Lance says dully, ready to go about the motions. It  _ is _ feeling much better than last week even. Most of the time he blessedly forgets it's even there. 

“Excellent,” the doctor comments, commending Lance’s cooperation with a pat on the shoulder. Gently he presses against the wound. Lance is used to the poking and prodding by now and for the first time, doesn’t wince at the doctor’s touch. He hates that too. “And now?”

“Fine,” he responds blandly again. “I don’t feel anything.”

The doctor hums. “The skin has healed remarkably well even with a lower dosage of quintessence. Next time you are here I’ll run some blood work again.”

“Tomorrow?” Lance asks, bored. He’s been here almost every day, even days Sendak takes him on those awful field trips to the bridge to demand the surrender of yet another planet. 

“One movement,” Azot responds. Lance perks up. Such a long time without seeing the doctor is… worrisome. A change in routine means danger, fear at what Sendak is planning for his favorite prisoners. 

Azot scowls at Lance’s reaction. “You said neither of you is experienced, correct? I am giving you that time to  _ obtain _ that experience. You’ll have your privacy - but if I do not see any signs of intercourse at the end of the movement, I will  _ have _ to start supervising.” He gives Lance a pointed glare. “Do not make me.”

Lance gapes in horror. It’s too soon. He doesn’t want to have this conversation with Pidge yet. 

“Can’t we wait like, a deca-pheob or something?” he asks desperately. Surely they’ll have escaped by then. “It can’t be that necessary to start now.”

Azot looks him in the eye sternly. “One movement.”

~~~~~

Lance makes no effort to snark with the escort back to the cell, mind swirling with how he’s going to break the news to Pidge while still trying to think of some way around it all. Reaching the thick, bolted door, he lets his arms fall limply to his sides once the guards remove his cuffs and makes no move of resistance, Azot’s threat of  _ observing _ foremost in his mind.

Pidge is looking up at him when the door opens, curled up against the headboard with a purple pillow in her arms - unchanged from where he’d left her. Despite acting as a model prisoner, the guards shove him roughly across the threshold and have the door securely locked before he runs into the full-sized bed they share, falling face-first onto it.

“...Doc visit?” Pidge asks tentatively, quiet and hopeful. When he’d been picked up, the guards hadn’t bothered to tell either of them his destination. He supposes he isn’t crying like after an audience with Sendak, so Pidge is making an educated guess. 

“Clean bill of health,” Lance says sorely. He flips to his back, arms sprawled out and legs hanging off the side of the bed. He’s thankful for an actual bed despite it all. If nightmares weren’t keeping him up at night, the comfort helps him get what sleep he can. Sendak himself hasn’t used physical torture since the branding, but the emotional torture has been taxing enough. 

Pidge sighs with relief. “That’s...good,” she says slowly. 

Lance knows what she means; glad he’s healthy and that he hadn’t been with Sendak, but it means Azot will be getting on their case. 

He needs to break it to her, but he’s terrified over how awkward it’s going to be. As if their lives hadn’t already changed for the worse...regardless of how well either of them take this, their relationship will be forever changed. 

Lance isn’t ready yet.

He scoffs, rolling pathetically to his side, facing her. “Only so I can walk to the bridge and kneel before our oh so benevolent emperor.” 

Though the words come out of his mouth with plenty of sarcasm, they are still difficult to say. To acknowledge Sendak as such means admitting defeat and acceptance of his new life. He regrets them immediately, as Pidge stiffens, her hands shaking against the pillow. 

“He’s  _ not _ ,” she growls. “He’s cruel and heartless and p-petty…” Trailing off, she holds the pillow tighter. 

It’s only now he notices the red in her eyes. She’s been crying this morning while he’s been with the Doc.

Lance makes a mental note that sarcasm isn’t the right way to go with jokes right now. Slowly, he gets up and joins her at the head of the bed, lifting the heavy magenta blanket and sliding under the covers next to her, covering their knees with it. As he searches his brain for the right kind of joke to make Pidge better, she falls into his arm and snakes her own around one of his, head falling onto his shoulder. She already forgives him.

”Pidge,” he says, anger on her behalf rising with each inflection, anger that he couldn’t be there for her when she really needed it. “What did he do yesterday?” He hadn’t been up long before Azot called for him, not enough time to let Pidge tell him what happened last night. She’d fallen asleep in grief nearly as soon as he had her in his arms and comfortably under the covers just like this.

Pidge breathes in deep. “I hope he dies, horribly and painfully. And I hope I can be there to see it,” she says hatefully. Scrunching her eyes shut, clearly recalling the painful experience. “He executed rebel leaders in the arena. People I knew by name. Gave me a front-row seat in a packed house.”

Lance slumps into her, resting his face into her hair, exhausted by the never-ending death that surrounds them. Not long ago, her wish for Sendak’s death seemed feasible, but now with no weapons, no friends, backed into a corner under heavy security, it feels like a pipe dream. 

“As long as he plans to keep us alive, maybe you can. I’m so sorry, Pidge,” he finishes empathetically.

“I don’t know how much more of this I can take,” she cries, burying her face between her pillow and his arm. “I can’t get their faces out of my mind, all the pity and the hate. W-we  _ failed them _ .”

His brows knit together in frustration, heart aching for her - and for him. “There’s nothing you could have done,” he tries to assure her, the same he’s tried to do for himself.

“I begged him not to. I begged him to kill  _ me _ instead,” she confesses in a harsh whisper, sobs soaking into her words. Lance doesn’t mean to, but he inhales sharply at the prospect of almost having lost Pidge and having to continue on his own. 

“He just  _ laughed _ at me,” she breathes unevenly. “Told me to keep suffering. What more does he want from us?”

Lance holds her close. Gulping, he realizes he has to say something, regardless if Pidge - if  _ he _ \- is ready to hear it or not. “...Doc says he’s interested in the…side project.”

“O-oh.” Pidge manages to hold him even closer, doing her best to reign in her tears. Her eyes flicker to him, their gazes meeting for a moment. In them he sees trepidation, but also sympathy for him and…guilt. 

“I’m not too keen on it either,” he assures her, eyes wandering to the door that acts as more of a portal to their personal hell than a simple throughway. Gulping, he realizes that nothing he can say is right. If he doesn’t want this, that means on some level he’s rejecting Pidge, which he knows isn’t true. It’s that same guilt he sees in her eyes about him. “It-it’s not like I wouldn’t  _ want _ to with you,” he stumbles. “It’s just…”

“I know,” she says so he doesn’t have to continue to put his foot in his mouth. With a shuddering breath she continues, “Th-they probably have video surveillance in here. I’m  _ going _ to find it one of these days.” It feels good to see an expression other than sadness on her face, that determined scowl that allows him to rest easy because she has a plan. 

“ _ We’ll _ find it,” he offers, and shrugs when she looks at him quizzically. “It’s not like I have anything better to do. It’s just a super hard game of hide and seek right?”

Pidge grins at the comparison, but then swiftly frowns. “It’s bad enough they’re forcing us to do this, but being watched…” Her gaze avoids him. “That first day in Doc’s office...I've never felt so… _ vulnerable _ and terrified before.”

Guilt tears up his heart, remembering how his brain had gone blank and his body in awe of her. He wraps an arm around her shoulders, pulling her tight. “I’ll die before I let anyone hurt you,” he swears. There is nothing more he wants to do than to lift her spirits, make her feel like the amazing, brilliant, and beautiful person she is. The words cross his mind and he almost doesn’t say them but…they are running out of time, and Pidge deserves all the love he can give her. 

He sighs, eyes fixated on his fingers that twiddle with the covers. “And if it counts for anything…I think you’re beautiful,” he says sincerely. 

Lance considers it a win when she continues to cling to him. “Y-you’re not too bad looking yourself,” she stammers. In the same way her sharp mind and tongue light a fire in his belly, the few times she sounds uncertain are adorable…and more than that, make him feel needed. The part of his arm where her cheeks lie feels much warmer, indicative of a blush on her part. 

“Well,” Lance says, wanting to get the one up on the flirting, “you make my floppy disk turn into a hard drive.” Literally, she literally had done so that awful day in the lab. Lance still isn’t proud of it, but if it helps set them both at ease with a laugh, he’ll use it. 

Pidge shivers, but a smile does break on her face. “That is so old school.”

“Sorry,” he says with a kiss to the top of her head. “Sex jokes probably aren’t the best idea right now.”

“No, it’s a good idea, I’d rather laugh at dumb jokes,” Pidge says quickly. She heaves a heavy sign into the pillow in her arms. “I wish we could have an actual date first though, not just food goo that tastes like raisins.” 

Lance bursts out laughing and Pidge quickly follows suit. They laugh and laugh, until Lance’s face hurts from smiling and they fall into a tenuous silence.

“Pidge, we need to talk about this,” he forces himself to say. “Sendak isn’t going to let us get out of this...and neither is Doc. He told me today we have to start within the movement. He’s…guaranteed that we won’t have any interruptions.”

She lifts her head to face him, still clinging to his arm. “So soon?”

Lance nods. “I tried to talk him out of it.”

“I know you did,” she assures him gently. Guilt in her eyes, she looks down, “Your arm…”

“Can’t even tell it was broken at all,” he says. “I’d do it again in a heartbeat if you wanted me to.”

“No,” she says quickly, shaking her head. “I…it’s not worth you getting hurt. I couldn’t live with that. We’re bad enough off as it is.”

It’s quiet for a long second, before Lance says, “So…now what?”

Pidge takes in a deep breath. “I guess we do what they want.”

Lance feels his eyes bug out. “You’re s-sure?”

“If you’re ready,” she says quietly, almost nervously, fiddling with the pillow cover. “M-maybe it won’t matter anyway. One of us could be infertile for all we know.”

A tiny drop of disappointment pools in his heart, which he immediately feels awful for. He’s idolized the idea of being a father for so long the idea of not being able to hurts. Yet…to bring a child into this situation...he can’t help but override his emotions and agree with Pidge. 

The pillow falls to the side, Pidge gripping the edges of the blanket instead. “The sooner we start and get our nerves behind us the safer I know I’ll feel.”

Lance nods, his own nerves building and twisting around in his gut. “I’ve never done this before.”

Pidge gives him half a smile. “Neither have I… but I’m glad it's with you.”

They may have lost everything, including the bond they felt through Voltron, but in that moment Lance feels as though they have something just as strong. He wants to survive and see Pidge through this awful mess. He needs to see her smile, wants to make her happy among all the hurt and pain. 

He will do so for the rest of his life, wherever that may lead. Shifting to face her fully, he takes one of her hands in both of his. 

“When we were captured, you asked me never to leave you,” he starts, eyes locked onto their hands before meeting her gaze, determined she know how much he means this. “I don’t want you to leave me alone with Sendak and the Doc, either. Let’s  _ both _ promise.”

Pidge raises an eyebrow, skeptical, before nodding in affirmation. “Okay...I promise - pinky promise,” she amends seriously and lifts the appropriate finger.

He slowly shakes his head, gently lowering her pinky and joins that hand with her other - cocooned in his hold. Earth may be lost, but he can’t help but grin like an idiot at what he’s about to pull in the spirit of keeping tradition. “I was thinking something a little deeper than that. Pidge, will you marry me?”

In all the years Lance has known her, he has painstakingly been working towards the day when he will undeniably catch Pidge off guard and take her by surprise. From her facial expression alone Lance knows he’s finally done it.

“Wh-what?” she stammers, flustered more than he ever dared hope for. “We can’t get married; we’re in prison - a Galra prison.” Her gaze darts around the barren room, as if looking for the altar. “Maybe when we get out but--”

Lance ducks down and kisses her before she can finish, the light tap of his lips against her own sends his heart pumping of thrill and Pidge into silence, her mouth preoccupied. It’s soft and gentle, kind and soothing, just as he’d always hoped his first real kiss would be. When Lance pulls away, Pidge is back to the calm, rational girl he’s come to know. The blush on her cheeks is the only indication of anything different. 

Her lips are curled up off to the side of her face in a frown, looking unsure and almost shy. “You’re serious, aren’t you?” she wonders quietly.

“We get to make our own rules now.” It’s a fact, though his heart falls just as Pidge’s face does as he says it. “There may be a day where we don’t have a choice,” Lance gulps, gut clenching at the thought of the absolute power Sendak has over them right now, “but until then I’ll stay alive for my teammate and my wife, if you’ll have me.”

Pidge takes a shuddering breath, tears pricking behind her gaze that doesn’t leave him. “I’m sorry,” she says. “I didn’t think about what that would mean for you; I’m just so sick of watching Sendak murder.”

He hugs her. She hasn’t said yes, but he hugs her anyway. “I get it, Pidge. It’s selfish of me to want you here, but I’m terrified to do this alone.”

She digs her fingers into the cloth on his back, pulling close. “If you’re selfish then so am I,” she whispers. “I’m going to need your help to escape this hell hole, and to survive it.”

A short chuckle sneaks past his lips as he rests his head against the side of hers. “So you do?”

Pidge pulls apart and gives him a kiss, their lips meeting once more. “Yes,” she says with a smile. “Yes, I do.”

Lance takes her hands into his once more. “You are my friend and teammate, the shield that grounds me. I swear I will be the same for you, love and cherish you,” he frowns, almost debating not to say the next part considering what they’ve just promised, but it’s still out of their control the same as before, so he adds, “now and until death parts us.” 

It isn’t even close to the traditional vows, but the words feel right. 

Maybe she’s thinking of her family who isn’t here, what it would be like to be saying these words in a chapel or on a beach like he is, rather than this dark prison cell. Pidge’s eyes glisten with tears as she opens her mouth. “I swear I’ll do that and more. You’ve kept me as safe as you can all this time, followed my crazy ideas, laughed with me,  _ trusted _ me.” She squeezes his hand. “I promise to love you, cherish you, and stay by your side u-,” the small smile she had turns into a frown, “until death parts us."

His heart feels as though it wants to burst. The love he feels from her words penetrates deep from the way she so earnestly says them. Despite having said his piece first, he has an inexplicable need to affirm her response, grateful in the knowledge that Pidge won’t throw her life away needlessly and leave him here. His eyes find that the end of the pillow cover is frayed. In one quick motion, he rips it off. Then he takes Pidge’s hand once more and ties the string around her ring finger.

“Lance…” she says softly. 

“Proof I mean it,” he says, because he can’t remember the exact words off the top of his head, the meaning of them will have to do. “Even if we weren’t in this situation I… I would have been honored to take you on a first date a-and maybe even marry you properly one day.”

The pool of golden brown in her eyes swirls with affection, fixated on him. She rises to her knees, placing a hand on his shoulder. Lance meets her halfway, instinctively turning his head ever so slightly so that his lips lock in place with her own. Instantly, all tension melts away when Pidge doesn’t pull back right away, simply keeping her lips pressed against his as she tenderly cups his cheek. 

His fingers drift lightly over her arm moments later as she pulls away, resting on her heels. He’s delighted to see her smile back as she takes a deep breath. “Thank you, Lance.” For the company, being her friend, the understanding, and the thoughtfulness of the makeshift ceremony.

Lance chuckles, refusing to feel bad about never being open to being romantic with Pidge before. That was past Lance. Current Lance is just happy he’s with his friend. It also gives him a high, knowing he’s still got it, able to use such a simple thing as a kiss to make her happy. 

“I still have the good old loverboy Lance in me. Sendak and Doc haven’t sucked my soul out yet,” he says with a wink, before his face relaxes into an easy smile. “That’s gonna be half the battle.” He leans down and presses a kiss onto her forehead. “So you keep being brilliant and curious and  _ punny _ .”

The wide grin that breaks out on Pidge’s face makes his heart flutter. “I didn’t think you liked puns?” she says excitedly. “Or is it only when you flirt?”

He shrugs. “I learned English and Spanish at the same time growing up; sometimes it takes a while for a pun to get through my head,” he says, tapping his head for emphasis. “But I love watching you get all smug over them. It’s…”  _ hot _ “a _ dork _ able.”

Pidge laughs, throwing her head back and landing on the other pillow, her back bouncing on the mattress. “That’s not a bad one for someone who doesn’t pun often.” She grins, that lovely confident one he’s missed. “We’ll get you to be a pun master someday.”

Lance snorts. “I may not be good with puns yet,” he grins wickedly, thrilled over his next planned move. “But I am pretty good at tickling.”

“What?” Pidge squawks, which quickly turns to uninhibited laughter as he sticks his arms under her armpit. “I’m not ticklish!” she yelps, all while giggling.

“No secrets, Pidge!” he teases mercilessly, bending down and giving her a raspberry on her cheek. Pidge scrunches her body up but continues to giggle. 

“You’re the worst, Lance!” she says between hurried breaths. Quickly turning, she manages to slip fingers around his neck. He shuts his eyes and laughs, the sensation almost overbearing as he squeezes his head and shoulder together to find relief, the momentum carrying him to land on the bed next to Pidge who hasn’t stopped laughing. 

The mirth and comfort in just being a kid again almost makes Lance forget where he is. The sound of locks disengaging quickly brings him back to reality. 

The laughter ceases as he and Pidge separate, sharing a worried look. It isn’t time for the evening meal. 

Yet it's the meal cart, a bag of food goo for Pidge on the bottom and one for Lance on the top of the two-tiered apparatus. One of the two guards that are always stationed in front of their door wheels it in, a scowl on his face. 

“A supplementary snack from the doctor. Eat it now.” 

The impatience with which the guard speaks moves Lance to action. Seeing as how the change in routine is nothing dangerous, he walks over and retrieves both packets, handing Pidge her own. 

“Nice of him,” Lance says glumly as he sits on the edge of the bed. “Wonder what flavor of tire this one tastes like.”

The guard doesn’t move, crossing his arms impatiently. Lance sighs. No time to savor it. 

Pidge has already opened her’s and taken a slurp. She tries not to show her distaste for it, to spare him the first bite, but her gag reflex kicks in soon after and she barely manages to swallow. “We need to talk to him about the taste.”

Lance rips his packet open and dumps as much of the packet in his mouth as possible, plugging his nose in the hopes that it won’t be that bad. It’s nearly tasteless this way, until it’s all in his stomach and the aftertaste is like having wet tissue stuck in his mouth. Reaching back over to the cart, he grabs one of the many water pouches and downs it. “Bleh,” he moans.

Pidge is quickly by his side, slurping on one of her own. Water is about the only tasteful thing they have to consume so he doesn’t blame her when she hums in relief and slumps to the floor, content as her shoulder rests on the side of the bed. 

More than the horrible food, it’s the smug look on their guard’s face as he takes their empty pouches that makes Lance’s stomach churn. “Pathetic,” the guard says before leaving and locking the door behind him. 

Worst of all, he’s right. They must take whatever they’re given. Be escorted everywhere. The only choices available to them are what to do within their cell between Sendak’s cruelty and the appointments with Doc. 

“What are we, Pidge?” Lance asks, looking aimlessly at the door. “Prisoners.” The memory of Sendak showing the leader of Telandris a view of him, the former Red Paladin, cuffed and made to kneel before the Emperor of the known universe flashes across his mind. “Slaves, experiments.” Azot telling them to mate without caring for their feelings. “Or pets.” Lance shivers, the weight of his collar suddenly more noticable and the fresh realization of having to take whatever food they are given taking on a whole new meaning.

Pidge slides onto the bed next to him, her shoulder against his. “We’re friends,” she says. “We’re still Paladins. And now,” her mouth twitches in a smile as she looks up at him, showing him the thread on her finger. “We’re husband and wife, right?”

Like a weight lifted off his shoulders, he hugs her tight. He needed to hear that so much. “Thank you.”

She hugs him back, then a moment later squeezes tighter. “Let’s take advantage of it,” she says.

“Right to home plate huh?” Lance laughs curtly, slumping his shoulders. “We barely made it to first.”

“Our first date was at the space mall,” Pidge supplies, grinning. “I can’t think of a better alternative.”

The wheels in his mind turn, thinking back to that fantastically fun day of searching for coins in a fountain and shopping at an Earth store. He’d had the time of his life with Pidge that day, her smile even then made him feel as though he were at the top of the universe because he helped her buy that sparkly new game system. The hours they logged together in that game flashes through his mind, along with the silly laughter and the triumphant defeats of the hardest levels. 

Then his mind goes back further, to the day he asked her if she was on the Garrison rooftop to rock out. And rocked out they had, starting this forsaken adventure together. 

Even though it ended in tears and heartbreak, he can’t find himself ever not making the same decision with Pidge to go through that wormhole. 

And maybe it wasn’t over yet. Their friends may be gone and their allies dwindling, but they are still Paladins of Voltron, symbols of freedom to the universe. One day they’ll escape and they’ll still have each other. 

Sendak won’t know what hit him.

But for now, they must play along, and at least they have each other.

“The space mall wasn’t our first,” he tells her. “We had a group date with our friends. We rescued Shiro and found the Blue Lion.”

Pidge smiles with a warmth he recognizes in his own heart as he reminisces on their journey up until this point. “Yeah, you’re right. I was so flustered when your lips were so close to my face.”

Lance can’t help but smirk and lean in, whispering in her ear. “Like this, you mean.”

She giggles and clings closer. “I hate being ticklish,” she admits, snuggling her head into his arm and sighs lightly. “We’ve had tons of dates and now we’re married.”

Lance nods, realizing she’s right. He holds her hand tight. They’re human, and they both need that reminder right now. “Imagine it’s our honeymoon,” he offers. 

Pidge takes a deep breath, as if building herself up. She takes his worldbuilding and runs with it, gazing at him in fondness. “Yeah. We’re in our hotel, settled in for the night. The windows are all closed for privacy, but the beach is just steps away from the patio.”

The image works. His heart bubbles up with warmth and when he closes his eyes he can see it all. “I don’t know what I’m doing,” Lance reminds her with a half laugh.

“Neither do I,” she admits, then she smirks, lighting his heart on fire. “Just… use your instincts Red Paladin.”

“My instincts say to kiss your genius face,” he says teasingly, and does so. Pidge leans back… back all the way until her head hits the pillows. Lance is dragged back with her by the lips, caging her between his arms and legs. He has half a mind to back away, but Pidge takes his face in her arms, gently keeping him there. 

When he’s had the taste of her lips, he moves to her cheeks, forehead, all over her face to make up for all the times he’s felt like he could have kissed her for her brilliant plans but hadn’t. He moves to her neck, gently pressing his lips against skin… and then ruining his mood utterly when he feels the metal of the collar that fits around it, the same that he wears on his own neck. 

He falls onto the bed next to her, deflated. “And Doc continues to be a killjoy.”

The way Pidge’s eyes swerve and focus on him make him feel marginally better. He can practically see the gears turning in her mind that mean she’s coming up with an idea. 

“You just need more skin to kiss,” she says, more objectively than feels right for the subject of the sentence. 

Lance bites his lip, reminded of her fear of whoever might be watching. “I’ll go first,” he says, eyes darting to the covers. “Then you whenever you feel comfortable. We can stay under the blankets best we can.” 

“Yeah, okay. I can do that,” Pidge confirms, her breathing purposefully deep and even. 

This won’t be so bad, he thinks as he sends the purple rag from his shoulders to the floor. Slowly he takes off the top part of the uniform, bare skin underneath. 

He slips his thumbs under the cloth that hangs from his hips, still covered by the blanket. “Are you ready?” He asks as he turns to Pidge. 

Her eyes are transfixed on the edge of the cover, where his bare skin meets that which is still clothed. They are wide, her mouth slightly agape as if she cannot look away. Despite everything, Lance finds it amusing, just another interesting fact about Pidge to add to those he keeps discovering. 

“Like what you see already?” he teases, rubbing the cloth between his fingers to keep Pidge guessing when he’ll remove them. It’s all he can do to calm his own nerves - slip into his loverboy persona and keep things light; joke at any moment to keep their minds off of where they are and why they’re doing this.

Pidge gulps, eyes darting to his face before the almost magnetic attraction between her eyes and his hips brings them back down. “I-I’ve seen it before,” she says. 

Her nerves get to him a little, unintentionally taking shots at his ego with her poor feignt of being unimpressed. All Lance wants at this point is for both of them to have a good experience out of this. His worst fear - aside from Sendak just walking in on them - is that he hurts Pidge, they’ll both hate this, and the Doc will still make them do it again and suck all the joy out of what they still have of their relationship. 

With a deep breath, he drops the bottom part of the suit and lifts the covers, letting Pidge see all of him purposefully for the first time. He’s already erect, painfully so. Doc must have put some powerful aphrodisiac in their food. Lance winces; he’s going to have to release somehow.

Pidge’s jaw drops even lower somehow, her brown eyes like saucers. “It’s… bigger than I expected.”

Lance’s ego doesn’t know whether to leap for joy or be depressed; that Pidge acknowledges he’s big or that she’d expected  _ smaller _ . “Than you expected?”

“I don’t know!” Pidge exclaims. “It’s not like I’ve ever seen anyone’s penis but yours before! I have nothing to compare it to!”

“Didn’t they show you one in sex ed?”

Pidge is silent. 

It’s his turn for his jaw to drop. “Pidge, I thought you knew everything!”

“I don’t know everything! This isn’t exactly stuff I was interested in!” she fires back with a glare. “I didn’t take the class because I was busy crashing the simulator with you and Hunk! I skipped a grade to infiltrate the Garrison. A-and,” her gaze wanders back down, “this is real.”

Lance slumps. “Yes, it is real,” he deadpans. Does his look fake? Or does that mean it’s textbook? Or is it that much bigger and therefore better? Should he be feeling good about that?

“How,” she babbles, “is that supposed to fit in my vagina.”

His mouth flaps uselessly. “I guess we’ll find out? It’s worked since forever, right? And we’ve got natural lube, I make some, and you’re supposed to get all wet--”

“Got it!” Pidge interrupts, not quite a squeak. “Got it. Um. Can I…” she points a finger towards his penis, “touch it?”

“Sure,” Lance says weakly, a pitch higher than he’d have liked, simultaneously mystified that she wants to, and also incredibly turned on by the idea. A half grin tugs up his face even though butterflies flutter about in his stomach at the idea, “it’s yours now too.”

“Okay, let’s not go that far yet,” Pidge says quickly. She bites her lip and slumps from her knees to her butt. “Who am I kidding, we’re going all the way anyway.”

“Satisfy your scientific curiosity, Pidge,” he jokes. He makes sure to look her in the eyes as he says sincerely, “I trust you.”

Pidge gulps, hand in the air with the intent to reach out, but still not there. “It’s literally just your sex organs dangling out in the open. Just another body part,” she says mostly to herself, as if psyching herself up. “Like your head.”

Lance can’t help but roll his eyes. “My brain is not in my boxers.”

“Not right now, it's not,” Pidge teases sharply, a sly grin on her face. 

Even though it’s a jab at him, Lance hardly cares, because Pidge is her sly, cocky self right now and he wants to drink it in and savor it. She’s not had much of a chance to be herself lately. A part of him is glad the ice is broken, that the sexual tension that probably would have built up naturally is getting it’s release now, if only so that the two of them can relax over being awkward, tease and be fully comfortable with each other. Especially if they’ll be sharing a room, a bed, a shower and a toilet for the foreseeable future.

Pidge was right. He’d rather it be now than later. 

Lance grabs hold of his not-brain firmly, rubbing it gently, as he is accustomed to do in the shower, giving Pidge an example of what to do. “Well today’s your lucky day, you get to see what’s going on inside my head. Be gentle.”

The smile on her face falls ever so slightly as she reaches out. As soon as her small fingers brush against him, he shivers and stiffens. She immediately pulls away.

“Sorry,” she says quickly. 

“It wasn’t you!” he assures her. “It's just…no one’s ever touched there but me before. Go ahead!” He relaxes back onto the mattress, head on the pillow and leaving his erection in full view. 

Just for Pidge, he tells himself. Not anyone else who might be secretly watching. 

Pidge grabs hold with more confidence this time. Her dainty fingers running over his ridges send his mind into a state of euphoria. Is he really this easy? She explores every bit of him, feeling the shaft and the head alike. He already feels immense pleasure, but the moment she shifts closer to him and cups his ball sack, massaging them gently, he moans and allows his head to roll back.

“Is that okay?” she asks hesitantly.

“It is more than okay,” Lance assures her, not having the energy to lift his head, but able to prop his elbow on the mattress and give her an okay sign. “It feels divine.”

“Really?” she ponders in a voice more like they’re having a conversation about their lives before Voltron, discovering an extracurricular activity she hadn’t expected of him. “Huh.” Right now he’s all hers for study and Lance does not mind in the least. 

“Just rubbing it is enough to get you going?”

“It’s very sensitive, Pidge.” He sighs in contentment. “There’s a reason guys wear protection in sports.”

“I know that,” she says matter of factly, a roll of her eyes. “I did the self-defense class. It’s all over TV - guy gets kicked in the balls and doubles over, ha ha funny,” she says as if reciting from a book. Squinting, her lips purse together. “Maybe I can kick Sendak in the balls before I kill him.”

Lance snorts, the image of Pidge, who barely comes up to Sendak’s knees, rendering him useless by ramming her bayard into his goods is the best daydream he’s had in the last month. “I will help you in your quest.”

“I should hope so, Mr. Holt.” Pidge holds up her makeshift wedding band, the purple string falling limply on either side of the knot where he’d tied it. “We’re married now. We do all things as one.”

He grins at the thought; of him and Pidge being partners through thick and thin, just the same as when they were piloting two of the Voltron Lions. The reminder of their loss, and the loss of their fellow Paladins cuts at his heart for a moment before he forces himself to focus on what Pidge is doing to him. They’ve both done plenty of mourning, but now isn’t the time. Pidge is alive and her emotional and physical needs take priority. 

“Can’t we hyphenate last names?” he hopes in his ask. “I want both our families in on this.”

The gentle and fond smile Pidge gives him warms his heart more than anything else right now. Before she speaks, he knows she agrees. “Yeah, I think that’s a good idea.” The smile takes on more of a sad tone. “My parents were really fond of yours, you know. Dad loved having Veronica work under him.”

Lance grins, feeling the sorrow now that Pidge has joined him in reminiscing. Waggling his eyebrows in the most suave way he can, he tries to bring the conversation full circle, to lighten the atmosphere, “Well then, it’s nice to meet you,  _ Mrs _ Holt-Uh!” The remainder of the name is stolen from him as Pidge suddenly grips him a little tighter. 

“Is that still okay?” she asks worriedly.

He raises a finger and nods. “Keep that pressure, rub and-- ahhh.” Lance isn’t given the chance to finish as Pidge follows his instructions. It’s like he sees his life flash before his eyes, but yet relishes in it.

“Interesting,” she muses as she continues to massage. “This isn’t so bad.”

“You’re telling me,” he sighs contentedly. With every stroke the pressure builds until he just can’t stand it anymore. “Pidge, I have to go.”

“To the bathroom?” she asks with a raised eyebrow. Briefly looking over to their shared toilet - if one could call it that, nothing more than a bucket. 

“No, like, cum,” he emphasizes. 

“Oh!” Pidge’s hand flies off of him as if it were causing him physical pain, which it  _ does _ as soon as she  _ stops _ rubbing, the cum building up inside of him unbearable and he  _ needs _ that stimulation to go off.

Lance grabs himself and rubs hard and fast, just as he would if he were alone. In one stellar moment, he nearly whites out as the pressure releases. He grunts, letting a second wave of the white liquid seep out of his sex and onto his belly. Then he just lets his head fall back onto the pillow, exhausted.

It only occurs to him about ten seconds later that he’d forgotten Pidge is there still. 

Her eyes are as wide as they were when she first saw him naked. “That’s....  _ disgusting _ ,” she breathes. 

It is weird to see it like this, usually letting it wash away in the shower rather than sitting on his skin like this. So he snorts. “Yeah, It kinda is.”

“Your sperm is in that?” she continues, her face scrunched up as if looking for the right place for a puzzle piece. 

He winces. “Sorry it was so sudden. Doc must’ve put something strong in that snack - I was dying.”

Pidge shakes her head. “No, it’s okay. I want to know exactly what I’m getting into,” she bites her lip, “or rather what’s going into me.”

Lance sighs, flicking his significantly smaller dick absentmindedly. “I need to clean this stuff off.”

“Right.” Pidge scoots over, giving him enough room to get the covers off and wander over to the wash area. He feels bad about using their shared rag, but not washing his face tonight will be a small price to pay.

He jumps back into bed as quickly as he can, the blankets doing well to combat the chilly air of the ship. This is fine. He’s comfortable in front of Pidge now. He trusts her with his life and the most vulnerable parts of it, physical and emotional. 

He has a great need to snuggle with her right now.

“Plenty of space for two,” he says lightly, offering a space under the covers. 

Pidge takes it, nestling her head into his chest as if they were getting ready to go to sleep, their hands entwined between their bodies. It’s peaceful for a moment, but he can feel Pidge grow tenser by the minute.

“Thank you for trusting me,” she says softly. “I know it’s my turn, I’m just...”

She’s still terrified.

“We can wait until tomorrow,” he promises. “Or next week, month, years, I’m not going to make you do anything you don’t want to do.”

Pidge scoffs. “What good will that do? Sendak isn’t giving us a choice in anything else.”

“Pidge,” he says sternly, harsh enough it gets her to look up at him. “You get to make this choice. I will let the guards break whatever bones in my body they want if it means you feel safe.”

Her lip wobbles ever so slightly before she grits her teeth in determination. Tears lay at the bottom of her eyes. “ _ You _ make me feel safe,” she insists as she snuggles closer. “Why is it easier to trust in battle versus this?”

Lance isn’t really sure what to say to that. He takes one of her thumbs and rubs it gently with his own. “Say the word and I’ll do it.”

Pidge untangles herself from him and rustles amongst the sheets, with the same focused determination she has on any tech project. It takes Lance a few seconds before he realizes, as she stretches and kicks, that she’s undressing under the covers. He instinctively moves his hands as far away as possible and can’t help but gasp at his realization. 

When she’s done, her fingers grip the top of the blanket, color all over her face. “I told you, I need to do this now.”

The idea of nothing but space between their naked bodies perks him up without much thought. Even though his view is obstructed by the blanket, his body feels her close and it hardens him up again like he hasn’t already gone off. 

Pidge flips to her side, closing in the space between them. They’ve done this on so many nights, but now it feels distinctly more intimate. Her breasts squish against his chest and her bare legs twist around his. He shivers when his upper leg brushes up against the lip of her vagina. Before he can think, his arms are around her shoulders, pulling her closer. 

He kisses her forehead, asking into her hair, “are you okay?”

“Yes,” she responds immediately, snuggling somehow even closer to him. “This is… nice.”

Eyes closed, he agrees with her. The blankets feel like any other blanket from Earth, making it easy to forget where they are. Without their prison uniforms on, he feels free. Their embrace is more something that they constructed of their own, rather than a command from their captors. 

“Did you really mean it before, when you said I was beautiful?”

“You saw,” he tells her with an easy smile, feeling really fond and maybe just a tad bit possessive. Pidge is  _ his _ wife, his body is for  _ her _ only to enjoy. “Doc hadn’t given me anything yet when they stripped us down in his lab. Like I said before, I’m a hard drive for you.”

Pidge chuckles into his chest. “No secrets. I was totally ogling you when we put you in the cryo-pod the first time. That suit really showed off your muscles.”

A fresh wave of confidence fills him. He has everything he needs to satisfy Pidge—the friendship  _ and _ the physical goods. It makes him giddy, probably far more than it should given their situation. 

He kisses her on the top of the head, emboldened. “You took care of me,” he says softly into her ear, capped with far more sultry tones than he used that night he followed her to the Garrison rooftop. “Let me take care of you.”

Pidge’s head bobbles in a few nods, burrowing into his chest. “I think I could really use someone to take care of me right now.” She slowly rolls onto her back and faces him. “Let’s rock out.”

She raises the blanket above her head and Lance takes the invitation. He straddles her, gently laying his sex down, brushing against hers. Pidge squirms a bit, but soon settles. Intentionally or not, Lance isn’t sure, she gently slides her hands over his waist, eyes fixated on his cock. 

It’s the first time since Azot’s office he’s seen her totally naked. Rather than then, now he can savor how utterly gorgeous Pidge really is. All that hiding behind baggy clothes and a suit of armor never did her justice. Heat invades his cheeks as he gawks, just as she takes time to observe him. 

His heart skips a beat at the brand near her left shoulder, still raw and unavoidable to his eyes. 

But he refuses to linger on it. There is far more to Pidge than the brand they both carry, and far more beautiful.

“You have boobs,” he says intelligently. 

The tension breaks after a long tic when Pidge busts out laughing, and he follows suit. 

“You’re a genius, Lance,” she says. Color fills her cheeks, but a comfortable aura surrounds her as her smile takes on both a wry and gentle demeanor, giving him peace in turn. “Want to touch them?”

“ _ Yes _ , you have no idea,” he breathes. With one hand he’s able to almost fully cover one breast. His jaw drops at the new sensation, absently rolling his hand over it. “It’s so jiggly,” he says in awe. 

Pidge rolls her eyes. “They’re kind of a pain, but they’re mine.” Unexpectedly, she bites her lip. “They… could be bigger I guess.”

“They’re perfect,” Lance tells her immediately, not about to allow Pidge any low self-esteem. Even when they were still actively fighting he hated seeing her down in the dumps. 

“Don’t guys like bigger boobs?” she asks with a raised eyebrow. “Not that I really  _ want _ bigger ones, ‘cause they’re annoying as they are.”

Lance tries his hand over Pidge’s other breast. He supposes she’s right, it is part of the male fantasy… but he can’t bring himself to agree to it. Not when he has Pidge here opening up to him. “But look,” he says instead, “they fit perfectly in my hands.” 

She snorts. “I cannot believe you are this amused over my boobs.”

“You got to science my penis, now I get to science your breasts,” he says wryly. He sits up on his heels as much as he dares to avoid exposing Pidge to any camera that might be in the room. Now he’s able to take both hands and massage her breasts, gently rubbing at the underside. 

Pidge’s eyes widen. “Scratch it.”

Caught off guard, Lance blinks. “What, like this?” Dutifully, he lightly scratches the area under her breasts. It has the desired effect, Pidge’s head drops backwards onto the pillow. 

“Yes, that feels really good,” she moans.

Really. And they haven’t even gotten to the supposed good parts.

“Okay, I’ll just… keep doing this then,” Lance says with some uncertainty. His hands move to her sides, then around her arms. Pidge hums in delight the whole time, thanking him and telling him it feels so good.

Lance is pretty sure all the moaning and pleasure is supposed to come when he’s inside her, but he supposes their relationship is far from typical. 

He eyes up and down her body searching for an area he’s not yet scratched, still in awe he’s allowed to see her like this. Nimble fingers find her hips and without much thought, he wiggles in between her butt and the sheets. In one swift motion, he pulls her up and massages her butt. The unintended consequence is that the tip of his cock catches the lip of her vagina, sending his mind into a frenzy of feel-good vibes. 

Pidge gasps, her gaze moving from her belly to where his cock peeps through her legs like a sock puppet theater. 

“I-is that okay?” he asks nervously. “Sorry I--”

“It’s okay! It’s good!” she assures him. “Just spooked me but I kinda liked it too.”

Lance raises an eyebrow. “So you… like it when I take control?” He did say he was going to take care of her, didn’t he? 

How… exactly was he supposed to go about that?

Pidge’s face turns beet red and her legs squirm under him. “I-I don’t  _ dis _ like it.”

Confidence surges from his gut and through his limbs, a feeling not unlike when he realized the Blue Lion had opened up for him and him alone pulsing in his soul. He feels that same grin and is encouraged even more when Pidge smiles back.

“I like that,” she says clearly. “‘Cause it’s just for me.”

“Do you?” he airs. Nothing else matters right now. It’s just him and Pidge on this bed, about to consummate a love that not only do they want, but desperately need - for themselves, not for anyone else. 

Lance showers her with kisses, like a barrage of bullets on their enemies. Starting with her face; her cheeks, forehead, nose, lips - briefly pausing at her neck to avoid the accursed collar before he moves down the middle of her chest. Pidge steals a kiss to the top of his head, threading his ears and hair amongst her fingers. It makes her breasts come together, squishing his face between them and locking them in place. He moans, feeling as though he’s entered some kind of fantastic daydream. 

When Pidge releases him, she does so with a gentle push, egging him to go ever backwards into the sheets. So kissing her belly he does, slowing as he reaches the upward extent of her pubic hair and his feet touch the end of the bed. She squeaks, body tensing as he lingers his lips and surrounds her ankles with his elbows, hands firm around her lower legs. 

He can’t help but gasp when he sees… hair, and lips of an entirely different kind than he is used to. His brain does mental gymnastics - Pidge was right, he’s going to fit his cock in there?

“Y-you okay, Pidge?” he asks instead.

“Yup!” she says quickly. “Totally fine. I am having sex with the guy I like and I am totally fine.”

The laughter escapes his lips, planting his face down on the sheets. “Just checking. I want to make sure my wife is comfortable.”

Pidge pauses for just a moment, as if in deep thought. Lance doesn’t make a single move. “I…I think I want to see your face. And I’m cold.”

Dutifully, Lance rises and scoots over her once more. With some dramatic flair he hoists the blanket more securely over him and lies down mostly on top of her, resting his head on the pillow next to her. “Better?”

She smiles brightly and kisses him. “Much. Thank you.”

“No need to thank,” he grins. “Your wish is my command.” Lance always wanted to dote on his wife someday, but now that the moment is here, that sense of living for someone he loves gives him more of a high than he ever dreamed. He’s eager to please, just wanting to do right by Pidge. 

“I want to figure out how to get your penis inside me,” Pidge tells him, far more objectively than sultry, though there’s a desperation and a need behind it that lights a fire in Lance’s heart. 

Lance takes his shaft in hand, giving it a good rub down. “Okay, I gotta do a deep dive into the blankets. I can’t do this one blind,” he smirks at her, “yet.”

“I’ll go with you,” she responds right away. As one, they lift the blanket and pull it over their heads. It reminds Lance of rainy days as a child, where he and his siblings would build pillow forts in their rooms to waste the day away. Here, he and Pidge have their own little world. They can’t see the bare walls or thick locked door. It’s just the two of them. 

Pidge furrows her brows, her hand snaking further down. It moves around her own privates, frequently knocking around his own, and Lance can only watch in amazement, utterly transfixed watching her play with herself in the same way she watched him play with his cock. 

“I think it’s… here.” Pidge gasps as soon as she says it. “Yup. Right there,” she squeaks. 

“Where’s what?” he asks. “Your g-spot?”

Pidge’s mouth pinches to the side of her face. “No, the clitoris. It’s way more sensitive. We need that natural lubricant.”

Lance feels his mouth form in the shape of an ‘o’. “You’re trying to get wet. I can help.”

He winces as Pidge stares at him neutrally, wondering if he sounded a little too eager. Instead, she gently takes his hand in hers and guides it ever so closer to the forbidden fruit he’s been told of time and time again. 

A shiver rolls down his spine when his finger first touches her lip and almost shakes as Pidge drags him past it. She uses his index finger like a gardener’s shovel, searching and prodding, until gold is struck; a ball of hard flesh not even the size of a fingernail. 

“Rub it,” she tells him. “Really carefully because it’s about as sensitive as the tip of your penis.”

“Really?” he gapes. “Not the g-spot?”

With uncertainty she bites her lip, “I don’t know. Maybe it will be? I haven’t exactly tried.”

“Oh, okay. So just rub the clit and that’ll get you wet? How will we know if you are?”

Pidge nods. “I’ll stick my fingers up there and find out.”

Not for the first time today, Lance feels his brain break. “You stick your fingers up there?”

“Yeah,” Pidge says as if it’s obvious. “gotta make sure things are healthy in there.” Her eyes dart down to his cock once again. “My fingers aren’t nearly as big as…yours though.”

For a few glorious moments, Lance finds it exceptionally easy to daydream Pidge lying on a heart-shaped bed, naked as she is now and angled towards him so that he has a front-row view of Pidge’s slender and tricky fingers widening the hole of her vagina and sticking one inside of it invitingly, her body drenched in hot sweat. 

Then he realizes he’s close enough to living it.

“O-okay, here I go.” He catches Pidge’s nod and rubs the tip of his index finger over the bulge. Pidge hisses and tenses, causing him to freeze where he is. “Are you okay?” he asks, ever concerned he’s doing it wrong, making her uncomfortable, or  _ hurting _ her.

“I told you it’s sensitive, keep going. I’m… I’m pretty sure this is how it’s supposed to go,” she encourages, wrapping her arms around his neck.

The hold is calming, both soft and comforting that she clings to  _ him _ during this time. It bolsters his confidence. Gently he begins to rub again. Pidge curls up closer to him, bringing her knees closer to her chest, squirming and breathing heavily, squeaking and hissing.

Lance stops again and she immediately relaxes. “Pidge, are you sure you’re okay?”

“It’s working,” she insists. “I don’t know what it feels like when you rub your penis, but I am burning down there right now. It’s amazing and agonizing at the same time.”

Something in Lance’s mind snaps. As soon as Pidge finishes her explanation, he rubs that clit fast, making Pidge gasp and clench up to him even tighter, lifting off the mattress in every attempt to get his finger off of her. It becomes a game then, Pidge twisting to get away even as she laughs. It’s just like a tickle fight. There’s nothing he wants more right now than to make her cling to him, make her want his body for comfort and stability. It gives him a rush with every fingernail she digs into his hair and the way her legs entangle with his, pulling him closer to her like he’s  _ hers _ . 

She  _ needs _ him. 

“Quiznak - Lance!” she yips through hurried breaths. 

His fingers explore around her lip, grower ever bolder, getting a taste of penetration - the hole is right there! For now, he avoids it, but the idea of slipping his fingers into her and exploring around in an unknown place ignites his curiosity.

It’s only when she sniffles, on the verge of tears, does he stop. His own breathing is nearly as fast-paced as her own as she slumps back down to rest on the bed. 

“You,” she begins, nearly out of breath, pointing at him with a lazy finger. Her radiant smile fills him up far more than the food goo from earlier. “You are insufferable.”

“Did it get you wet?” he teases back simply. 

Still smiling, she closes her eyes as if to rest. “I think so? I don’t really feel like reaching down and checking right now.”

Lance believes her, the way she lies utterly relaxed in the sheets, her chest rising and falling noticeably. He just observes her for a moment, leaning into his side and propping his head up under his palm, unbelieving how lucky he is despite their reason for being here. 

“I love you,” he tells her.

She gazes up at him softly, making his heart melt. Genius, sassy, and fun Pidge looks at him with absolute affection. “I love you too, Lance. I really do.”

They both sit there for a minute, gazes locked with each other before they both burst out laughing. 

“I can’t believe we’re doing this,” Pidge finally says. “I mean, I always thought I would one day, but right now it feels so surreal.”

“No time to get sappy, Pidge,” he says, leaning down to silence her with a kiss. “Don’t want you to dry up.”

“Okay, okay,” she concedes with a smile. “I don’t really want to move right now, though.”

“Like I said, I’ll take care of you,” he promises, sealing it with a kiss. Lance takes his chance. He knew one day all those laboratory classes would come in handy. Pidge is a scientist and right now, he wants to fancy himself one as he explores her body. “Can I check your wetness level for you? Make sure it’s at acceptable levels?”

The lab talk has his desired effect; her cheeks darken a tic before her grin turns into a sly smile. “I trust only you with his procedure, Dr. Hol-Aht!”

Pidge yelps as Lance worms his fingers through the flabby skin of her lip. His heart pounds with anticipation, the unknown sparking his curiosity and the wonder of each new sensation at his fingertips making him want more. He finds plenty of space with one finger, a strange gel surrounds his finger. Each and every direction he moves the more he encounters. 

“I think your current wetness level is more than acceptable.”

Pidge half laughs as her gaze works between his face and what his hand is doing. “I concur. It feels like you’re swimming in a pool in there,” she quips. 

Curiosity bubbles to the surface. “You can feel it’s wet?”

“Especially when you’re in there, but I can definitely feel when it’s more wet than not.”

Humming, Lance chews his lip and considers his one finger in there currently versus the size of his cock. It’s going to be like sticking three fingers up in her together. While there is plenty of room inside, he understands how flexible her opening is now, no different than an (extra strong) elastic band widening and contracting as needed. Still, it’s with some care that he sticks the second finger inside. Pidge gasps a bit, eyes widening. Lance freezes where he is. “Sorry, I’m sorry.”

“It’s fine!” Pidge assures him, eyes locked on his finger’s movements despite not being able to really see over her hips. In one movement she slumps her back to the mattress, leaving her lowers angled up towards him. “All this is just so  _ new _ , but… we’re making these discoveries  _ together _ ,” she stresses. Her words are meant to comfort and there’s no bite to them, just facts as she sees them and just a hint of fondness peaking through, “so surprises are expected.”

Tenderly, she wraps her fingers around his ear, stroking the hairs around it that are growing a little too long for his preference. There’s fire dancing in her eyes, flickering around in the warm brown of her irises. All the hatred of their situation, the frustration over the lack of control are evident in her voice. “It’s our experiment, not for anyone else, crazy doctors or evil emperors.”

Lance’s laugh is curt and spiteful. “If Sendak and the Doc want us to fuck, fine,” he says with a growl, desiring to give Pidge one of those kisses right now. He leans forward, taking his fingers out of her and sealing the pact with a kiss. “But I’m going to kiss you as many times as you want, hold you as much as you want, because I want that  _ too _ ,” he whispers by her mouth, pouring every last bit of affection into his voice. More than anything he doesn’t want there to be any misunderstanding. He wants Pidge to know he’s here for her and loves her.

Pidge seems to understand the sentiment, with the way her smile turns into a frown ever so slightly. They may have been told to do this with the goal of bearing children, but all this extra stuff - the kisses, the exploration of each other’s bodies, and love between them isn’t part of that - it’s theirs and theirs alone, one of the very few choices still available to them, an expression of freedom. 

Pidge takes another kiss from him, taking the back of his head and digging her fingers into his hair, massaging his scalp. She speaks between pelting him with kisses all over his face, “do it…i want…to see…what…happens…when…your…penis…is…inside…me.”

Breaking away from the kisses is difficult enough, but Lance’s mind is in a frenzy. Slinking backward he returns Pidge’s kisses with ones of his own, right down her chest and into her belly button, the same route he’d taken earlier. Pidge is far more relaxed this time so that by the time his fingers reach her flap, she’s helping him pull it open. 

Their eyes lock together in astonishment. Lance’s heart beats swiftly over having the same idea despite the lack of words. 

Together. As one. 

Pidge holds herself open - for him, he thinks again for the hundredth time, letting that pool of warmth settle in his heart. It’s easier to guide his cock in. Despite the invitation, Lance pauses, overwhelmed with the imminence of doing it. 

He must wear the worry on his face. “Lance, it’s okay,” Pidge says empathetically. “I’m ready.”

He nods, head bobbing up and down a few times as a wordless answer. Pidge is his wife. He loves her. This is something he wants after all the closeness they’ve shared over the last month, the comfort to each other and the affirmation of their friendship and the promise to get through this together. 

It’s a different sensation from his fingers, one large mass navigating through Pidge’s exposed skin and breaking the plane underneath. The motion is near effortless. He looks to Pidge. “I-I’m in,” he says pathetically. 

Pidge’s mouth is open ever so slightly, her brows knit in confusion. “I thought it would be a bit more… painful? I can barely feel you in there.”

Lance’s heart melts, warm and gooey like her fluids that surround his cock. Half a grin works its way onto his face. “‘Cause you’re all wet.”

She snorts adorably, a smile playing on her own face. “I guess so. You did good, Lance.”

If he hadn’t already been hard and inside Pidge, the praise would have surely set him over the edge. The way she says it so confidently leaves no room for him to wonder about his ability to please her. 

“You too,” he says. “Honestly I was so nervous.”

Pidge nods enthusiastically. “Yeah, me too. I’m not anymore now.”

They sit there in still silence for a long moment, Lance’s dick stuck in Pidge’s vagina, blanket draped over the both of them as if in a childhood pillow fort. 

“So… now we’ve got to stimulate you again?” 

Lance considers the situation, eyes wandering all over Pidge. “Yeah, um, just let me know what you like.”

“With how wet it is down there, is there going to be enough friction for you?”

The way she says it so objectively flusters him, so he rebounds with cockiness. “Is that a challenge, Pidge?”

She studies him, as if discerning his intentions. “Maybe it is,” she says, a bit hesitant. “I did say I wanted to see how it feels. This is a test run.”

“Pidge,” he says with slight exasperation. His arms tense as he uses them to hold his weight, leaning down to kiss her lips. “Enjoy.”

It’s a workout, a test of endurance as little-used muscles stretch and flex. Pidge doesn’t make much noise at all, small gasps here and there, but her gaze does not move from where he gently pulls in and out. It sets his ego on fire. In a spurt of adventure, he thrusts deep in one jerking motion. 

Pidge inhales sharply. Lance immediately sucks in his gut, terror in his heart. “A-are you okay?” Quiznak, what if he’s hurt her?

“Do it again.”

Lance blinks. “Wait what?”

“At that speed and power,” Pidge says clearly. Her eyes find his and they leave no room for argument. “Do it again.”

Thrill that can only be compared to flying the Lions surges through him. “Yes, Ma’am,” he says with a smirk. 

He does it again, a single thrust - a tease - and watches Pidge jump and grip the sheets tight, her breath heavy. Then again, and her head falls back onto the pillow, moaning in delight. Even though Pidge is small, she’s full of fierceness and fight. It so fits her character that she likes sex rough.

Lance certainly isn’t going to complain. 

He’s going to indulge her, make this fun. When he goes back to the gentle strokes he’d started with, Pidge actually gives him the stink eye. To which he merely smirks back, “Maybe I will, you don’t know when it’s coming.”

Pidge growls. “You are a tea--” Her words are interrupted with a gasp as he thrusts not once, but twice in quick succession. “Quiznak, Lance. You need to keep that up.”

Chuckling at her plight, he leans back down for a kiss. “Make me.”

Pidge glares venomously at him, as if he’d just eaten the last peanut butter cookie. She grabs his shoulders and pulls him down on top of her, collecting him in the sweetest kiss. He gets so caught up into it, that he’s caught off guard when Pidge makes her move.

With strength he really should have known she had, Pidge lifts her hips off the mattress, in turn sending him upwards. She lets herself fall back to the bed, making his cock go in further upon landing, using gravity to do the rest of her work. Leave it to Pidge to come up with an innovative solution. 

“Okay, message received,” he concedes through wheezing breath. One by one he plants his elbows back onto the mattress, on either side of Pidge, enduring the absolute smug look on her face. “Next time,” he stresses, “you get to top.”

“Gotta get our exercise somehow,” she agrees in humor. 

Lance sits up, taking a few strokes and watching Pidge’s expressions to find the right angle again. “Well,” he says when he finds it, pausing just long enough to speak, “it’s time for my workout.”

The pace is as fast as he’s physically able. Pidge gasps and moans and eggs him on, tilting herself upwards to help with the angle of entry. Lance hears the thud against the wall of her cervix, feeling how sturdy it is and relishing each time the word ‘yes’ escapes from Pidge’s lips in various tones and volumes. 

All his life he’s gone off quickly in the bathroom and it's no different here. Hardly ten seconds into his barrage he feels his cum begging for release. 

They still have the entire movement, nearly a full week. No use rolling the dice yet.

At the last possible moment he comes out and releases his cum over her belly button, gasping in relief. It’s not nearly as much as he’d let out earlier, but it feels like he’d put in twice the amount of work. 

He falls heavy onto his side next to Pidge, catching his breath. Pidge does the same, her eyes closed.

Though she nestles closer to him, forehead touching his. 

“We… we did it,” she says, flipping to her side and facing him. 

Lance soaks in the affection, entwining his fingers around hers. Piercing the silence, the steady pounding of boots as their guards do their hourly rounds, reminding him of their tenuous privacy. 

“We did,” he echoes. At the very least it isn’t meal time and the guards won’t be walking in on them anytime soon. So he snuggles closer to his wife, snaking an arm around her shoulder and letting his face rest in her thick hair, basking in the afterglow of intimacy. 

“Thank you for pulling out,” Pidge says after a few minutes. She coughs, clearing her throat. “N-not that i would have minded, it’s just with the whole…”

“We’ll stall as long as we can,” he finishes for her. “Maybe we can even get away with me just pulling out all the time so we don’t have to worry so much about, um,” he swallows hard, “getting pregnant.”

“I hope we don’t,” she breathes into his neck. “I hope none of my eggs are viable and we escape and find a way to take Sendak and his empire down.”

He strains his neck ever so slightly to press a kiss to the top of her head. “We’re going to fight him every step of the way,” he promises. “I pulled out because what we just did was for us, not for him.”

Pidge relaxes, her sigh of contentment giving him a peace of mind that she really and truly feels safe with him. “Every kiss is ours too.” She follows her words with the action, lips sweeter than honey in comparison to their regular meals. 

“And so is every hug,” he says softly, slipping his lower leg between hers and pulling her closer. Everything Lance ever expected out of sex was that it would be the most amazing thing ever. It was pretty cool, he had to admit, but far and away holding Pidge close to him like this is his favorite part. 

“We really should get dressed,” she says after a few long moments, though her tone betrays her true desire to remain exactly where she is. 

“Just a little bit longer,” Lance murmurs into her hair. “The beachhouse doesn’t serve breakfast for another hour. We have plenty of time.”

“You’re right,” Pidge agrees, playing along with their preconceived honeymoon fantasy. “A few more minutes won’t hurt.”

What was a few more minutes when they had nothing but each other to look forward to each day. 

A soft shiver leaves Pidge’s breath. Lance pulls the edge of the blanket tighter around her shoulders, tucking it under her side to keep the cold air of the ship at bay from her bare body. Having clothes on would be warmer but…the moment they don them is the moment they go back to being prisoners. 

Lance’s mind wanders, as it is prone to do, to anything other than this barren existence they have with each other. Thoughts are filled with wedding celebrations both after the ceremony and at work - the Garrison of course, where Lance flies the newest model fighters that Pidge designs, often flying in formation with her when she wants to test the controls for herself.

“If you could have any job in the world,” he starts, absentmindedly playing with the hair at the back of her head, “what would it be? Would you be a pilot?”

He can feel her face against his neck, scrunched up in confusion. “I guess? When we get out of here and find other rebels, it wouldn’t really be the best use of my talents. I’ll have to keep an eye on the tech.”

“No, I don’t mean now, or the future,” Lance says, unsure about his idea now. “I mean… if we still had Earth. If we never found Voltron… what do you think you’d be doing… would we have even met?”

“Eventually,” Pidge says frankly. “I’d have gone to flight school. Would be a year behind you and Hunk.”

A smile creeps up Lance’s face, feeling content as he begins to imagine what their life would be like without this mess. “You would have been the cute, spunky first year. I would have asked you out, offered to teach you some flight tips.”

Pidge laughs abruptly and his mission is a success. “I would have hated you.”

“You’d have given into my charms eventually,” he teases, pressing a kiss on her forehead. “I’d have figured out how much you love puns. And the more you resist me, the more intriguing I find you.”

It takes a moment before Pidge calms from her giggles, but she continues the story, “Without Dad and Matt missing, I would have had more fun. When not in classes I’ll be in the commons room playing Killbot Melee. Hunk would have been nosy enough to find me and you wouldn’t be able to keep yourself away.”

Lance hums contentedly. “Eventually you see my skill and grant me player one privileges.”

“In your dreams, Tailor,” she teases. Weakly, she pushes off his chest and lies on her back. Despite the jest, her hand finds his, their fingers intertwining in a slow and deliberate way. 

Lance knows he isn’t mistaken that she squeezes, because he feels just as desperate for the physical confirmation that they are in this together.

“It sounds like a nice way to meet you, though,” Pidge offers, a sad smile on her face. 

Lance leans in, his feelings mirroring her smile. It may be no good to dwell on what-ifs in their situation, perhaps it will only make their hearts long for something they can never have. On the other hand, they have more time than either of them knows what to do with. Lance prefers to dwell on happier thoughts for as long as they can.

“It makes for sweet dreams, at least.” Lifting his arm carefully out from under the covers, he cups Pidge’s cheek and presses down the few inches he has left, locking his lips with hers.

There is no need to dream right now when he has Pidge in his arms.

**Author's Note:**

> Find me on [Tumblr](https://rueitae.tumblr.com/). Please leave a comment about what you liked! I'm anxious to hear!


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